


Damage Done

by Rai_Novak



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, F/M, Language, M/M, WIP
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-29
Updated: 2015-05-13
Packaged: 2018-01-27 01:07:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1709426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rai_Novak/pseuds/Rai_Novak
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Wow look another chapter. Deadpool is OOC but that is part of the plot. Bear with me.This was supposed to be the end but I got a little carried away. Whoops!</p></blockquote>





	1. Baklava and Bullets

A bell chimed as you rinsed off another dish. Your job wasn't all that boring, but it wasn't too exciting. Small coffee shops draw in a large variety of people, but you had never seen one walk in with a red and black bodysuit before. And...

He was heavily armed, two swords, three guns. Oh god, you were going to die. You considered pulling the silent alarm, but that might make things worse. Besides, no one who tries to rob a shop walks in displaying their weapons. You couldn't see his face, but he seemed strangely charming and innocent. He stopped at the counter, looking you in the eyes.

“Was it something I said? It usually is, I talk too much. There was that one time I was too busy talking to this parakeet that I didn’t have time to run before the cops showed.” He put his hands behind his head and laughed. “Sorry babe, that probably doesn’t make you feel any better. I’m Deadpool, nice to meet you…” He leaned forward to look at your nametag. “[Name]. I’m glad you haven’t run screaming yet. Anyway, I’d like a regular coffee, black, and um… an éclair. Are you ok?

The truth is, you weren’t ok. This guy was clearly insane, probably a fugitive, and just casually chatting you up. You took a deep breath, smiled, and went to make his coffee. He had a superhero name, but he could also be a super villain. “Do you want that for here?” You looked back at him, and he was checking you out. Gosh, this always happens.

“Uh, sure sweetheart.” He smiled, and you forgot why you were mad at him in the first place. Right, because he could kill you at any second. You handed him his mug and his éclair, and he sat down just a couple feet away. You liked that spot, it had a nice view, but for some reason him sitting there was unsettling. You pulled out your phone and googled him. Crimes interspersed with heroic acts, it seemed like if he pulled people out of a burning building, he was charged with arson. For just a second, you felt a pang of sympathy. You knew how it felt to be under-appreciated, everyone did. He was looking out the window, and though you couldn’t see his eyes, he looked so sad. More customers came in, but you couldn’t get your mind off of him.

You watched him flash a sad smile at you as he left, and for the rest of the day, anything red reminded you of him. You knew you shouldn’t feel this way about someone who might have possibly killed people, but you couldn’t help yourself. Your friends would say that this is what will land you in a ditch, but you don’t care. It’s not like you could just stop loving someone even if you wanted.

The next day, he came in again, but you weren’t at the counter for that. He looked a little saddened, but paid attention to when you were up there so that he could get a refill from you. It was kind of sweet, in a sort of stalker way. That line is a thin one to tread, but he was trying his best to restrain himself from talking too much. You wanted to walk over there to see if he needed anything, but he was writing something down. You didn’t want to disturb him, but he already seemed so under appreciated.

“Hello Deadpool. Do you need more coffee?” He jumped and slammed closed his notebook.

“Jesus [name], you scared me. Don’t sneak up on your friendly neighborhood hero-ish person like that. Last time someone snuck up on me, they… I’m sorry.” He smiled, but it wasn’t sincere. “Sure, and if you have anything as sweet as your smile, I’d like that as well.”

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. I'm sure we have things much sweeter." You turned to get him a square of baklava, but he grabbed your arm. Everything seemed slower, and you turned to look at him. You didn't know or care what he looked like under the mask, but you knew he must look as sweet as he acted.

"I don't like baklava. I had a bad experience once, someone tried to poison me..." He blabbed on, but you weren't listening. He was completely oblivious. Just when you thought you might be falling for him, he does this. You should have seen it coming, and you shouldn’t be upset, but instead you just nodded politely to hide your anger and got him an éclair.

Some cheesy heartbreak songs were playing on the little radio, but it didn't matter because you were unreasonably upset. This happened sometimes: No matter what you did, you couldn't get over this little thing. In this case, the little thing was the mysterious and oblivious Deadpool. This time, when he came in, he just nodded to you and sat down. You quickly poured the coffee, spilling a bit, grabbed the éclair and sat down across from him.

"So who are you really? I don't think you are a villain, but you aren't a hero either." You stared him straight in the eyes, and, judging by the awkward leg shifting happening under the table, it worked exactly the way you expected it to.

"Some people call me Deadpool. Some people call me the gangster of love."  
He smirked, and you knew you couldn't get out of this, so you let him finish. "Some people call me Maurice, 'cause I speak the pompatus of love." That smug bastard, you wanted to shut him up in the only way you knew how, but your boss was watching you. You decided to be creative.

"I'm going to make sure your smug mouth is preoccupied so you shut the hell  
up." Normally, someone would be at least a little shocked, but he gave you that stupid smile again.

"Is that a promise? Because if so, I'll be back tomorrow. Well, I'll be back anyway." He got up and strutted away, trailing his hand on the table as he went.

As much as you hated him, you realized pretty quickly that you had feelings for   
him. He would order a coffee and something sweet every day, and sit in the same spot. He would make the occasional remark, but he was clearly trying to be quieter. You appreciated it, but you also kind of missed him. After a while, he would barely speak to you at all. Every time he did speak, you let yourself drown in it. That was probably his plan, to always leave you wanting more. You wouldn't let yourself fall for that.

The little bell on the counter rang, and you spun around with a smile on your face. Shit, what did you just say. You tried to relax your face, but it wouldn't budge. 

“Hey, can I get another coffee, or two if your shift is over?” The red and black face stared back at you, smiling. You returned the gesture, leaning forward.

“Only if you tell me who you really are.” If he were a criminal, he wouldn’t give out his real name, that would defeat the purpose of the suit that was just tight enough to be really distracting. It left nothing to the imagination and it was glorious.

“Wade Wilson.” Ok, that was unexpected. Half of you still thought that he was a serial killer, just a freakishly nice one.

“How do I know you won’t kill me? I mean, you are heavily armed, and a quick google search tells me that you have killed people before. It would be dumb of me to go into this blind. I would never go on a date with someone without knowing what they look like!” Shit. You said that out loud.

He smiled, and leaned forward. “So it is a date then? I’ll meet you here at 6.” He left a piece of paper, and walked away, despite your objections. You have a date with a potential murderer, and you couldn’t be happier.

20 minutes before you expected him, you saw a little tuft of red fabric poke through the window. He saw you, and ducked down. He didn’t have the swords this time, but you couldn’t see if he had the guns. He was wearing a suit over his body suit, and it was really attractive.

“Hey Lisa, can you close up today?” You called back to your manager, not wanting to keep Wade waiting. She nodded, and you flung off your apron and rushed to the door. He was writing in his ratty notebook in crayon, and when he heard the door open he slammed it closed again.

"What's in there?" He's done this several times, and you can’t hold back your curiosity. His hand reached up to the back of his neck shyly. When you can't see someone's face, you look at their body language so much more. You noticed the way he pulled his stomach in slightly when he was embarrassed, making it easier to see his abs, the way he straightened up, the way he tilted his head to the side. You secretly thanked the mask, because without it, you might never have seen how beautiful he really is.

"I don't really think it's that important. Well, you think that I think it's  
important if I keep trying to hide it but really it's just me noticing things and writing things down. Nothing too interesting. Do you want to head out? I have this really cool Mexican place that gives me discounts because I eat there at least four times a week." Does he ever shut up? "It smells amazing. Did you know that I once dated someone who couldn't smell anything? Man it must suck to be her. I wonder where she is. She would get so mad at me for mentioning that it smells like a bomb. Come to think of it, why does it smell like a bomb?" He looked confused, the worried. You tried not to panic, but looked around carefully. Under the car next to Wade was a little red blinking light. You tried to scream, but no sound came. You just pointed, and the next thing you knew, you were in his arms on the rooftop.

"Stay here. I'll be back, I have to help people to make it seem like I am heroic because that is apparently really attractive to most people. Do you find that attractive? Oh shit gotta go." He winked as he winked out of existence and reappeared on the ground. You scrambled to the edge just in time to see him scooping up people and puppies left and right, and placing them a few blocks down. You also saw the bomb go off and him blown to pieces.


	2. This Chapter Is The Bomb

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow look another chapter. Deadpool is OOC but that is part of the plot. Bear with me.This was supposed to be the end but I got a little carried away. Whoops!

You sat there on the edge of the building, not able to help in the least. Your date was just killed by a car bomb saving other people. There was blood all over the street, his blood. You couldn't look anymore, you just couldn't. He was dead, and you weren't even crying. You stood up, and kicked the vent, the only thing on the roof for you to take your frustrations out on. There were the tears, hot on your face. You fell to your knees, and let your emotions run its course. After about 15 minutes, you stood up to look over the edge again, to see if he was down there, somehow alive. All you saw was a power hose cleaning up the blood.

"Babe, what's wrong?" You felt a hand on your shoulder and a familiar voice behind you. Deadpool, no, Wade, was alive and right behind you. His mask was tattered beyond repair, and you could see underneath. He had so many scars, but that’s not what mattered to you. What did matter was kissing him, and that was what you did. You threw your arms around his shoulders, and felt his rough lips freeze for a second before kissing you back.

“I told you acts of heroism were attractive.” This time when he smiled, you could see in his eyes that it was sincere. You made him as happy as he made you, and this fact was simply wonderful. Still, he was being a smug little bastard. You didn’t kiss him because he saved 3 people and a puppy, you kissed him because he saved you. He saved you in more ways than one. He came in every day and gave you hope. Not everything was ruined, not yet at least. Though, there was one thing that still confused you.

“If you are alive, whose blood is splattered on the pavement?” He laughed. That bastard. Someone died, and he’s laughing.

“Mine. Did I not tell you that I have a sweet healing factor? I usually brag about that a lot, well, I usually brag a lot in general, so I forget what I tell people. Did I tell you that I know Spiderman? Oh, are you ok? You look like you are going to throw up or storm off in anger.” You weren’t going to storm off, but you were going to punch him.

“How could you let me think that you were dead? You could have said something like 'I can't die' or 'no matter what, I'm coming back.'" That would have been cute and romantic. " I sat up here alone for twenty minutes crying. You couldn't have come back sooner or given me an actual hug or told me that we were safe? You come back with 'hey why are you crying?' Really?" You punched him in the chest a few more times. "I love you, you idiot! Do you know what that feels like? To finally be with someone but for them to slip through your fingers again?" You felt tears come back, and his arms wrap around you in a tight hug. You looked up at him and saw his face. His real one this time, not the mask. The insensitive bastard was so pretty, and you hated him for it. He cupped your face in his hands, forcing you to look up at him.

"Yes, [Name], I do know. I've lost people too. I can't die, but I still couldn't save people. If our positions were switched, I'd be shooting the faces off of the people that hurt you right now. I'd probably also be bent over the hood of a car." He paused before chuckling. "Hehe. Oh, sorry. What I mean to say is that, well, I love you too." He smiled. "I wasn't a teenage boy about it! Yay!" You wonder if you are actually hugging an abnormally large six year old before pulling his face close to yours and kissing him. This time felt softer, more natural. You pulled away to look up at his face, his real face. It was peeking out through his tattered mask. He had countless scars, but his face somehow seemed pure. You looked down and found something else poking out.

"Oh my god, Wade, seriously? At a time like this?" You laughed at how  
ridiculous this whole thing was, and barely noticed when he picked you up bridal style.

"Yes seriously, it's not like I can control these things. Tacos and skeeball?" You  
smiled, wondering how he can be this nonchalant about dying. 

"Yeah, you dork. I'm still mad at you though." A giggle came out, and you couldn't tell who it was from. You tried to straighten out your face and poke him in the chest, but you both just laughed harder. He jumped off the roof onto the next with you in his arms, and you couldn't be happier.


	3. What Are You Doing With Your Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This should be that last one that's OOC. It hurt to write this bland shit, but it's an important plot point. I'm so sorry. All will be revealed in the next chapter.

As soon as he walked in the door of the little restaurant, a waitress smiled at him and slapped a cheap sombrero onto his head and winked at him. You weren’t upset until Wade winked back. Really, what did you expect? This was the same man who basically flirted with everything that moved, but you couldn’t help but be a little jealous. You could understand when he was single, but you were on a date for god’s sake.

“Wow, Wade.” You didn’t really mean to say anything, but spending time with him made you a little more vocal about your opinions. He did just say that he loved you about ten minutes ago.

“Hmm? What? Oh, yeah. Man, you did see her, right? I can’t pass up an opportunity like that.” He stopped for a second. “I’ve been married before. Like, vegas weddings, but still. They all left, some even tried to kill me.” He grabbed you by the waist, and you looked up at him. You could feel your face grow hotter. “I never get a happy ending. Most people around me end up dead, so I want to have a plan B. No, bees are not my plan. They don’t like me. Once I shot a tree because the person ducked and I got stung on my… You know what I mean. You probably didn’t understand my tangent. Anyway, sorry. Do you want to sit down?” He kept one hand on your waist and used the other one to pull out a chair for you. The waitress looked pissed, and you reveled in this moment. Wades mask was tattered, so you could see his face. He looks so sad again, and you couldn't help but wonder if it was because you said something. He saw you thinking and kissed you on the head before he helped you into your seat. You gave the disgruntled waitress your order, and sat there awkwardly for a few minutes.

"Wade, what were they like?" He seemed confused for a moment and then removed his eyes from your chest. 

"Hot. More that the waitress, less than you." He looked so proud about what he just said. What a dork. "Now they just cold, most cold and stiff. When I saw you I was just like 'damn, that barista is way out of my league, I'm going to hit on her.' Most people don't like the way I look." He stopped for a second and seemed just a bit nervous. "You haven't seen my face yet, and I don't want you to run. Most girls run screaming, and I hate to see them leave but I love to watch them go." He winked at that line, and you sighed. What a pervert. 

"You know your mask is torn to bits, right?" He ripped the mask off, and you could finally see his whole face. You really wanted to just feel it, for some reason. It's like when you are told you can't have something, and then you want it. If a face is under a mask, it's mysterious and tantalizing. "You're still here? You aren't trying to climb out the bathroom window?" 

"I went on a date with you without knowing what you looked like, I care about you too much to judge you on something like that. How shallow do you think I am?" Knowing him, he would just come back with a smart ass remark. 

"Well..." He started. He was just trying to rile you up, but you weren't going to let him. 

"I hate you." You smiled and held his hand so he knew you weren't serious. He laughed, and it sounded like a manly angel. Not one of those blonde man babies.

"Oh come on, you know you love me." He stood up and called back to the kitchen. "Hey Jimmy, hurry up or I'll come back there and kick your ass." You heard a few people chuckle. "Again." As the cooks laughs grew louder, a man in a cartoonish chef's hat came out from the kitchen. He pulled your date into a tight bro-hug and they started talking about various things. You couldn't understand them; they were talking way too fast. Jimmy went back into the kitchen and came back with a heaping platter of tacos, with fifty at least. 

"And?" Wade looked at Jimmy expectantly. The chef scampered back to the kitchen and returned with a plate of six tacos and placed it in front of you. 

"Um... Wade? Are those all for you?" He looked at you like you were crazy. Honestly, you didn't think a person could eat that much in one sitting. 

"Yeah, of course, why else would I order this many?" You saw him puff out his chest just a little bit. "In fact," he continued, just a little too proud, "I think I'll have more. Hey Jimmy? Yeah, I need another-" Your date was cut off by the sound of shattering glass and gunfire. 

"Deadpool. We've been looking for you."


	4. No Jimmy No

All you could hear was gunfire. You tried to duck, but you felt arms around you.

You looked up and saw that Deadpool had shielded you using his own body. His chest was in front of your face, and you took a split second to appreciate it before snapping back to reality. If it weren't for his weird teleporting abilities, you would have been dead. The sound of metal clanking on the floor rang out in the silent restaurant. He seemed to have ejected the bullets out of himself. 

"Fucking idiots. Before we get started, I need to know." He pointed at the wall, but there was nothing there except for a few paintings. "Why have I been so out of character? Oh, plot points, got it. Tragic backstory and repentance and whatever." He turned back to the person standing in the broken glass. "Wait, didn't I kill you? Whatever." You saw people in uniform emerge from behind the main shooter. There were probably about thirty of these soldiers, and, since you couldn't fight, Deadpool was the only one to defend you. He looked back at you and smiled. 

"It's ok babe, I got this." He winked at you. How cheesy. "Run now, or piss yourself later." Some of the soldiers looked at one another, but they all stood their ground. He shrugged. "Suit yourselves." He ran forward as he pulled a sai from the sheath on his back. He stabbed the first soldier's neck, giving him time to pull out the other one and shove it in just a little higher. He pulled upwards until his head popped off, squirting blood everywhere. You ducked down, partially to avoid the incoming gunfire, partially to throw up. Your date just killed someone, and based on the screaming and thuds, he didn't stop there. You poked your head up to see a sai sticking out of a soldiers neck, and Wade, no, this was Deadpool stabbing the guy choking on his own blood over and over. You watched this man you thought you knew get shot over and over, and not care at all. 

"Stop!" It came out of your mouth before you realized it. You didn't know what you were doing, but you just decided to roll with it. "Deadpool, why are you doing this?" 

He smiled back at you. "Just a second babe, I'm getting shot at." You were so unbelievably pissed that you stood up for a second, which was all the time you needed to get shot in the leg. You howled in pain, but that seemed to be lost in the overwhelming sound of gunfire piercing the air. You heard another scream, but this one was from behind you. Jimmy had gotten shot, and it looked like he needed help. You dragged yourself over there, and glanced at your leg. It was trailing blood, but it seemed like it wouldn't cause any permanent damage. It had just clipped your leg, and it hurt like a son of a bitch, but it wouldn't land you in a wheelchair. Jimmy had gotten shot in the shoulder, the gut and the arm. There wasn't anything you could help him, or say anything to make him feel better, so you just held his hand and kept your head low until the sound of gunshots stopped echoing in your ears. 

Deadpool walked over the pile of corpses to try to find you. He found Jimmy first, and ran over to him. 

"Noooooo! You made such good tacos! I'll miss your tacos man. I don't want to eat food truck shit again. Do you know how much gas that gives me? Poor Jimmy." You glared at him. "What? Oh shit." He saw your leg and ran. What a gentleman. You leaned against the counter Jimmy was trying to hide behind when he got shot, and stretched out your leg slowly. Deadpool came back with probably the only uniform jacket that wasn't soaked with blood. He smiled as he tore the jacket into strips and started wrapping your leg. You were so scared of this psychopath, how he could go from sweet loving Wade to the brutal executor Deadpool and back again in the blink of an eye. He leaned forward to kiss your forehead, and you put a hand up to stop him. He tilted his head, confused.

"Babe, what's wrong?" He honestly didn't know. Holy. Shit. How was he not locked away in some secret facility made for genetically engineered mass murderers? You were, for lack of a better word, repulsed. He expected you to be repulsed at his face, but you were in shock at how his personality had even more scars than his body. You kissed this man who killed thirty people like it was nothing, meaning he has probably killed before. How many has this man killed? 

"What's wrong? Oh, nothing. Not like you just brutally murdered thirty people like it was nothing. How many have you killed? Why did you kill them? I thought you were a little crazy but still sweet, for fucks sake. Now I'm thinking more modern day superhero-ish Jekyll/Hyde. We should make that into a movie! I can be the overly sexualized love interest. Yay, everything is just fucking peachy." 

He looked up at you hopefully. "Really?" You couldn't believe how dumb he was. 

"NO!" You shouted, and, despite yourself, you felt bad when you saw the hurt puppy look on his face. You pulled out your phone and started to dial 911 when you felt the scarred hand touch yours. 

"Wait. Let me explain." He coughed, and when he spoke again he spoke I a deep dramatic voice. "Long ago, a man said that he used to be an adventurer like me until he took an arrow to the knee, which was confusing because that game hadn't come out yet and because I wasn't an adventurer per say. I was a mercenary. I did this for years until Nick Fury saw my awesome, took me in, suckled me on the sweet milk of justice. Not really, I got that from a cartoon about me. Man, I miss spidey-boy. He was so good in my imaginary bed. Mmmmm. What? Oh, yeah. Anyway. I was actually a mercenary though until SHIELD told me to take this medicine that would make me less awesome. They said less violent, but it's the same thing. I lived the life, but I got laid a lot more if chicks didn't think I was a mass murderer. Which, I'm not, by the way. I un-alive who I have to. You're going to leave, and no matter how many times I send flowers, you won't come back, I know the drill. There was this one time with this girl who worked in a Spanish food truck who actually drove to a different state to avoid me, but I called in a favor to have flowers sent to her. Jeez, people don't appreciate real romance these days." You were staring in awe at him, and he realized it. "Wow, I haven't seen someone's jaw that open since that guy I hooked up with in that gay bar, let me tell you. His mouth was-" You couldn't hold it back anymore. You just straight up slapped a bitch. In this case, this was your sort-of-boyfriend who would not shut up. "Heeeyyyy ow! Fine, fine, I get the hint. I'll leave, but I'm not leaving town until I check you into the emergency room." Dr. Jekyll again. You hated them both, in a way, but Mr. Hyde was so much easier to hate. You nodded, and he scooped you up in his arms, careful not to touch the area around your wound. He leaned in and whispered in your ear. "I'll take care of you." God, what a sweet, adorable, psychopathic murderer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm working on another fic at the same time, so updates will be a little scattered. Sorry! I'll be keeping you updated on my progress at my tumblr robot-nepeta.


	5. I'll Shield You

He would teleport a few times before stopping for a second, and continue again. You asked him if he was tired, and added that it wasn't that you were worried. Concerned, maybe, but that's not the same thing. He dropped you off at the emergency room and blabbered something, but you didn't care. He was probably just going to come back and eliminate witnesses. You were so busy being upset with him that you didn't notice him kiss you on the forehead before leaving. You hobbled inside, muttering to yourself about what an asshole he is, which, you might add, is a massive understatement. After about an hour of waiting, a woman sat down next to you. She was wearing a suit which would have looked perfect, but it was tattered and bloody, and they were holding ice and a rag to their nose.

"So, what happened to you?" You casually asked the lady. She sighed and leaned back.

"I got into a fight, but you should have seen the other guy. Covered in scars. I was just trying to help him, but he got upset and started rambling." You leaned back as well, reminded of Deadpool. It's funny how these things happen. You find someone who can relate to you on a surprising level, and suddenly you spill your guts to them. Well, not in the way Deadpool spills guts. You shuddered, remembering his brutality.

"Yeah, a guy like that is why I'm here too. Him talking too much is probably what got me into this situation. I was out on a date and people came looking for him." You stopped for a second and realized that if you told her too much, the cops might get involved. "Anyway, I see where you're coming from. It's ridiculous how oblivious people can be." She swiveled in her chair and faced you.

"My guy is so full of himself I can't believe it. I mean, he's not 'my guy'. He kept blubbering about some chick he just met awhile ago and how much he loved her. I thought he might put someone in danger, and it's not like I could kill him even if I wanted to, so I had to tie him down. He made some demeaning jokes before getting out of the restraints." She sighed. This guy was insanely like Deadpool.

"I know this is a strange question, but what did he say about the girl?" You didn't quite know why you asked it, maybe because as soon as she mentioned scars "It's A Small World" started playing in your head, or maybe because you were just interested in her story.

"Some barista, met him a few weeks ago, went out to their first date tonight." Shit. More expletives ran though your head. This woman knows Wade.

"Is his name Wade?" She looked surprised, and grabbed the watch on her wrist. She might have pressed a small button on it, but you weren't sure. She nodded slowly, and backed up even more slowly. "I am so sorry about him. If you know him, then you know what he did at the restaurant. I'm the barista." A nurse finally called your name and brought over a wheelchair, and as you were switching from one chair to another, you saw her watch was not a watch. It was some weird skype thing. The man on the other end nodded, and the woman let go of your wrist.

The doctors asked you too many questions, and they thought you were being abused. Eventually you told them that you were just trying to eat some food at a small place when you heard gunfire and didn't dare lift your head again. You added in how traumatizing it was for you so they would leave you alone. Before they left they told you that you would have to stay in the hospital for a week while some of the tissue heals, and that, while it was deep, you were lucky. The woman from the waiting room would pass by your room's window and make uncomfortable eye contact. It had been two days, and it seemed like she was planning your death. It was terrifying. You didn't know who to call, other than the Ghostbusters, or, in this case, the brainbuster. He scared the ever loving hell out of you, but you had no other choice. You dialed his number but got his voicemail.

"Heeeeey babe I'm not here right now, because I'm doing one of some things.  
I'm getting paid  
I'm getting laid  
I'm in my room in a feeble attempt to get drunk. Stupid healing factor. Let my liver die in peace, god damn it!  
Anyway, sweet-cheeks, leave me a message. Beeeeeeep!" That last beep was him saying beep, not the actual program. The program didn't beep, or say anything.

"Hey, uh, Wade, I might need your help. This lady is staring me down, and she knows you? She said she tied you down. I don't know. I saw her boss, I think. Middle aged, receding hairline at the temples, glasses. He was in front of an eagle logo." You paused, because you thought you heard breathing on the other end. Was it the NSA or the freaky organization stalking you? Or were you just paranoid. That could be.

"That wasn't my voicemail. Sorry babe, I answer the phone that way because people get to the point when they have a time limit. You know, people tell me that after I talk for more than thirty seconds that I should get fifty-thousand volts straight to the nipples? Man, I'm not sure if that would shut me up or give me the weirdest boner of all time. Man, it's good to be off that stuff SHIELD gave me. Oh yeah, stalker lady works for SHIELD. Mystery Man Meat was Agent Coulson. He hates me because he wishes he could be me instead of the watered down rule follower version of me that he his right now. I sent you flowers, by the way. Did you like them? And did you get what I sent today?" You looked over at your table, which was brimming with flowers, but there were no other gifts. You made the universal noncommittal 'I don't think I did but I could be mistaken' noise. "It should come today. Anything else you need, baby-girl?"

"No, nothing really." It annoyed you how lovable he was. If he were horrible all the time, he would be easy to cut out of your life. You remembered the first time you saw his eyes, how they glistened in the evening sun, and how... Fucking hell.

"Remember, [name], I'll take care of you. Always. With Mexican food and pink fuzzy handcuffs so they won't hurt your wrists. I own a pair that would be perfect for your size wrists. Ooh, that would be perfect. I can just imagine... Hanging up now because I said that out loud." What an idiot. A nurse knocked at your door, and handed you a notebook. It had a tag on it that said "From: Deadpool To: Hot Barista Who's Name I Forget." You opened it up, and there were song lyrics on the left page of each spread and a sketch that was about as skilled as a fifth grader on the other. It was adorable. As you got further in, the songs fit you more. At first they were general love songs, but now they were really about you two. It was sweet, even when the pictures got a little out of hand. The final page was titled 'I fucked up again' and was dated for two days ago. You kept reading.

"With these hands I picked a rose  
And have stopped it's life  
Only now I understand  
I stole it's life  
Deep inside, I'm alive  
For my love, I'll survive  
Though I regret using my own heart as a sheath"

On the other side, there was a sketch that was so much better than the rest. It barely seemed like it could have been the same person, but you recognized the same strokes as before. It was a portrait of your face, and you could see that it was erased and restarted many times, and you noticed the paper was crinkled from drying. At first you thought that he dropped it, but then you realized that it was wet from tears. Your manly angel was actually one of those blonde man babies. It was touching your heart and breaking it at the same time. You pulled out your phone to google the lyrics, and you found the song pretty quickly. You listened to it and ended up crying loud enough for a nurse to check up on you. It was hard to forgive him, and you were scared, but you know now that he wouldn't kill you. I mean, you being in the hospital was enough to turn him into an angsty teenager, so what would your death do to him? Either a murder spree or the only thing you can think of worse than that. Romeo and Juliet was a crazy and unhealthy relationship, and ever since ninth grade English, you vowed never to have a relationship like that. You picked up the phone and debated calling him back to tell him about the notebook, but you set it down in indecision.

Why are people such utter assholes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song lyrics belong to AmaLee, and the song is "Magia". It's a great song, and has helped me through things. Wow, anyway, thanks! I'll be posting more on both my fics soon, and I'm going to write a Pushing Daisies/Supernatural crossover next.


	6. Counting Days, Counting Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When they say love hurts, they aren't kidding. You think about your decisions while in a hospital bed.

You had had your heart set on leaving the hospital as soon as humanly possible. Hospitals were petri dishes of pain and sickness. The doctor insisted that you stayed at least a week to watch for infections and to let the tissue regenerate, and so you sat in the cold room, counting the number of times the SHEILD agent passed your door. Counting the number of voicemails from Wade. Counting the number of days until you could leave. Twenty two times you saw her. Seven voicemails. Four days. You told the nurses to keep the agent out of your room, and unless she blew her cover, they had no reason to let her talk to you. Wade said SHIELD agents mostly work in the shadows. They are the invisible strings keeping this country up. They are douchebags in cheap suits. 

His words, not yours. 

His words left another voicemail on your phone, buzzing its way across the table to you, as if it were alive. Once it lit up to tell you there was a voicemail, you took a deep breath and listened to it. 

"Hey." His voice was different. It sounded somber and serious, as opposed to the bubbly carefree voice you had grown accustomed to. It sounded broken. "I know there's nothing I can say to fix this. The damage is done. I wanted a new life with you. Truth is kid," He paused before letting out a mirthless chuckle. "I'm a fucking monster. I don't know why I thought you would care about me, and you deserve better. That's why this is the last call I'm going to make." Your hand slowly covered your mouth as your eyes began to sting. "I need you to know that if you're in a jam, you can call me. I know you hate me, but I love you, and I always will. I have a plan to fix this, a plan to keep you safe but it's dangerous. It might be the end for me, but it's a new beginning for you." You could hear the bittersweet smile in his voice before it faded into a choked sob. "I guess I'm cheesy and overdramatic no matter what, huh babe? Just... I hope that you can forgive me eventually. Goodbye." You could hear his voice crack as he hung up. 

You sat with the phone in your hand, staring blankly at the wall until the city lights had long since dimmed out your window.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me start off by saying I've had a rough time lately. In the 11 months since I've last updated, I've questioned just about everything. I still don't have my life sorted out, but I've been faking confidence by living the song lyrics that have kept me alive. I'm afraid of falling apart, and I think the angst in the next two chapters will reflect that. Two more chapters of angst after this, posted Wednesday and Friday, and then one or two more chapters of fluff after that. And I know this chapter was short, shush.
> 
> What about after the main story is done? Well, I'll write whatever you and infinity-on-low tell me to. Have you read her fanfics? They're the best things ever. Seriously, read them and give her kudos. But yeah, I can't promise that I'll have inspiration for all the prompts thrown at me, but I'll try my best. I'll take a few requests before I add a bonus chapter after the fluffy epilogue. Again, I'm sorry for taking so long, but I hope you can forgive me.


	7. You Are A Getaway Car, Just A Bullet To The Head

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While you're struggling to keep going after what Wade did to you, some others are struggling after what Wade did to them.

You were discharged from the hospital on a bright and clear Saturday. The first thing you did was go home and change into your work clothes. You thought working might distract you from everything that's happening in your life at the moment. It may not be healthy, but it's a distraction, and a distraction is what you need. You wondered if Wade would show up. You cursed mentally, realizing that you called him Wade. He wasn't that person anymore. 

He came in at the same time he always does. When you see him, your heart stopped beating for just one second, and your body lurched. Your vision shook, and began to look like a foggy night sky. Static crackled in your ears and your eyes flooded with tears you thought you had control of. No one cares that you're heartbroken, they just go on with their lives pretending like nothing was ever there, like you are invisible. You begin to believe them after a while. Deadpool comes in at exactly the right time, just at the moment when you have planned to step away to do something. When you came back, you see him leaving and you feel so guily, even though this is all his fault. A coworker asked how it's going with him, and how he makes you feel. 

He made you feel like shit. It felt like the ground falls from beneath your feet when you saw him, and nothing you did seemed to make you happy. You felt hurt, and pathetic for being hurt. It takes all of your strength just to get through the day. 

A few weeks after your discharge from the hospital had given you time to think. It wasn't that you were mad at him, necessarily, but more that you missed him. You couldn't forgive him, how could you after what he did? However, you also couldn't keep pretending like nothing was wrong. You loved him. You wanted him more than you had wanted anything else before. The notebook he had given you sat on your nightstand, and you had began to draw in the margins as you read it over and over again. Carefully shaded pictures of his mask, a logo, drawings of the flowers he had sent you, and a detailed drawing of him on the other side of his drawing of you. You rushed to close up the shop so you could get home and just hold the book and feel like you're holding him. 

"Excuse me, I think I left my bag inside. Do you think I could come in and look for it?" Three of your regular customers stood outside in a semicircle, blocking your exit, and you took a moment to notice this before opening the door for them.   
"I didn't see it out here, but I can look in the lost and found in the back if you'd like." You're movements were interrupted by two simultaneous clicks. One was from the door being locked, and the other was the safety on a gun being turned off. You stared at the woman holding the gun, and you realized that they must be part of SHEILD. Panicking, you slowly backed up until your legs were flush against the cold marble counter. 

"If this is about Wade, I have nothing to do with him anymore. I haven't spoken to him in almost a month." They hesitated when they heard the tremble in your voice, but pressed on regardless. 

"That's the problem. We've been trying to get him to continue taking the medication that stabilizes him and reduces his violent outbursts, but he says nothing matters now that you're gone. He made some demands. Even though you are probably over the crazy bastard, he has tortured and killed some of our agents to try and get your memories wiped. He mentioned that he had to dispose of some of his enemies who were tailing you, and so he wanted a security detail assigned to you as well. He even managed to get onto a helicarrier with a bomb attached to him."

You felt your knees weaken as you tried to process this new information. That's what he meant by that last voicemail. He knew that the threat might get him killed, but he still did it. He did it for you. 

Another agent stepped forward. "Look, I'm just going to get to the point. We're not going to wipe your memories or assign you a bodyguard. That's stupid, and he's crazy. We don't have the resources to cater to the whims of a madman. We are on our way to deliver some bad news to Mr. Wilson. Normally, we would be against killing civilians, but we have been known to take one life to save hundreds. If he had succeeded in blowing up the helicarrier, it would have been catastrophic. He won't stop killing our agents until we surrender or you're not in the picture anymore." You knew exactly what they meant. You were going to be executed, for lack of a better term, to stop Wade's desperate, lovesick, hormone fueled killing spree. 

There was so much you wanted to tell him. You wanted to say that you would give anything to see his face. Not the mask he hid under, but his real face covered in those beautiful scars. You wanted to tell him that you missed him, and that when you close your eyes, you were with him again. He may be an idiot, but he's your idiot. Well, he was your idiot. Now, you were going to die before you could tell him that you still loved him. 

Before he could know that you forgive him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, I would like to dedicate this chapter to infinity-on-l0w and GrellesTARDIS. They are both fantastic and supportive friends, and I could not have done this without them. 
> 
> Next is the matter of a *ahem* bonus chapter at the end, or maybe in a separate fic entirely. I've tried my hardest to not say what gender the reader is, but it would be incredibly difficult to write certain types of scenes without specifying gender. Should I write separate scenes for people with different anatomy, or should I try to keep the reader gender neutral? Please comment on this chapter, or any chapter to tell me what you think. Actually, just try to answer all the questions below. 
> 
> 1) Would you be interested in a bonus chapter?   
> 2) If so, would you like it here or on a separate fic, and how should I approach the issue of keeping my story open to readers of all genders?  
> 3) I'm still taking prompts for things to see after the main plot. If you give me any prompt, I'll try my best to write it. 
> 
> Thanks, and I love you guys!

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing Deadpool. He might be a little OOC, but I'm getting better as I go. Sorry about taking a break from Heavens Graveyard, but this was a request from a close friend. I'll be posting the other chapters soon!


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